Untitled
by secondgenerationphan
Summary: Christine has a change of heart. What will the two lovers do now that the Opera House has burned down?
1. Default Chapter

Hey there! You must be really cool because you're reading this! Our names are Holli and Vicki from the Yahoo! Group, **Red Death Productions** and this is our RP. We made some adjustments and ran the spell checker and we present this, our gift to the world. Thanks for reading and please R/R!

**Chapter 1-Escape **

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Christine and Raoul jumped off the boat Erik had given them and dashed up the steps to the staircase. Christine stopped short.

"Christine, we need to get out of here before he changes his mind and comes back for you!"

"Don't you think I know that? Something is telling me I forgot...I need to go back," Christine's voice drifted off.

Raoul took her hand. "Come on, Christine, we need to go now!"

Christine did not move. "I need to go back..." she repeated. She began to walk as if in a trance back to the boat. Raoul stepped forward to stop her. Turning, she looked at him and continued to walk forward, over the small steps and into the boat.

The boat seemed to have a life of its own and sprang into action, pulling a entranced Christine back to Erik's lair.

"Christine! Don't go, Christine!" he cried. She never turned around.

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The boat carrying Christine rudely bumped into the stone ledge of Erik's home.

Still entranced, she stepped out.

Loud sounds of breaking class filled the space as Erik broke the large full length mirrors with a cry of despair. He had the demeanor of someone that had been totally defeated...and now he was alone once more. He had heard the echo of Raoul and Christine proclaiming their feelings for each other through the caverns across the lake....and even though he knew that Christine couldn't stay, that didn't stop his soul from wrenching in jealous agony.

No matter how much he wanted her - no matter how much he thought that she was his alone...he also knew that if the mob on their way down below found her with him that it was likely that she would get harmed. He would rather die than see her hurt because of him...

So he had let her go....when everything within him was screaming to take her and keep her forever.

With a final crash - the last mirror shattered and the glass shards tinkled at his feet. The darkness of a concealed passage beckoned from within and Erik had just stepped a booted foot within the space when he heard the slight splash of the boat as it met the shore. Tensing automatically, Erik whirled around brandishing the heavy candelabra like a weapon while sweeping the tapestry back over the mirror's frame. He was angry and disheveled clothing still clinging wet from wading in the lake before. The candlelight highlighting his angry unmasked face made it seem more fearsome as he glared and snarled like a cornered animal in the dark.

Then he saw who it was in the boat - and all thoughts of murderous rage dissipated to be replaced by disbelief and shock. The candelabra slipped from his fingers and fell to the stone floor with a clang as he slowly made his way down the steps to the boat. He stopped two meters away - staring. His body language clearly said to leave...to make haste before it was too late - but his eyes...the painful longing in his eyes told a much different tale.

"Christine..." he whispered.

Christine smiled. "I had to come back," she replied. She walked slowly over to Erik. "I couldn't leave you." She wrapped her arms around the trembling Phantom and kissed him passionately.

Erik had been staring at Christine standing by the boat, wondering if this was a hallucination precipitated by his overwhelming grief - when she suddenly started to walk towards him slowly. He froze instinctively as she approached him and wrapped her arms around him - revealing that this was indeed real. His whole body shuddered in both pleasure and timidity when she brought his face down to meet hers in a gentle kiss filled with passion - not unlike the one she gave him in the waters of the lake during the confrontation with Raoul a short time ago.

His shaking hands entwined into the soft brown curls tumbling down her back as the kiss ended and he buried his face into her shoulder making sure for it to be the normal side of his head. He didn't want his mangled flesh to touch such soft pure beauty. His hot tears trickled onto her skin as he trembled in her arms. Her words and actions just told him the fact that he knew to be true - that she would always be his and his alone

Christine's face was wet with tears as she pulled the Phantom's face to hers. She looked him deeply in his eyes. "We need to go; they'll be here soon..." she whispered.

The Phantom nodded - his turbulent dark eyes boring deeply into hers. His eyes roiled with multiple emotions; disbelief, wonder and joy - but at the same time pain, sadness and mistrusting doubt. Would this end happily with her in his arms...or would history repeat itself? He knew he couldn't remain here in the opera house - the only real home and solitude he had ever known.

Even now - he could hear shouts of people eerily echoing along the caverns and passageways as the angry mob descended deeper into the cellars. The idea of going aboveground to escape was a terrifying prospect, for Erik would rather die than be captured and put on display again....but now was not the time for hesitation.

"Come...this way." The Phantom's voice was low and urgent as he grasped Christine's wrist in a firm but gentle grip. There was no time for second thoughts now...

He quickly led her to the tapestry covered mirror, and swept it aside long enough to dart into the extremely narrow and dark passage - tugging the beautiful singer in with him. No sooner had the tapestry draped back over the frame to the floor than Erik heard voices approach inside his lair. One was male and distressed - and the Phantom sneered unseen in the pitch darkness as he recognized the boy, Raoul. The other was a woman and the sneer faded as he recognized Madame Giry. The lady was the only one in this world that had helped him and showed him an ounce of kindness. If it wasn't for her, he would have been probably still in a filthy cage.

No matter, by the time they would ever find this passage, Erik and Christine would be gone. The Phantom shoved back painful memories and quickly led Christine into the deeper darkness of the narrow passageway and away from the voices. He didn't need a lantern to guide his way but he kept a hand on Christine's wrist and his free hand hovering by her waist to guide her unsure steps.

Reaching out, Erik's hand touched a well hidden switch in the stones, and a wall slid aside revealing a small hole blacker than the one they were currently in. Ducking in, the Phantom pulled Christine inside and the wall slid shut - enclosing them in complete darkness. It was as quiet as a tomb in the small space, and the sound of their breaths mingled in the darkness. Erik knew this place like the back of his hand - for he had created it. He used it as an emergency refuge in case something like this would ever happen. He always kept a large satchel packed and ready to go in case he would ever need to leave in a hurry as well as various items that would be needed in travel. Another hidden passage on the other side of the small chamber eventually led above ground.

He was reluctant to release Christine - but he had to if they were to get out of here alive and undiscovered. "Christine - don't move away from the wall in this darkness - don't worry for I won't leave you." He made sure she was touching a wall and stepped away to busy himself with gathering his things. He swept a large black cloak about himself and pulled the hood over his head and face. He grabbed another for Christine and approached her – feeling out for her in the darkness so that he could place the hooded cloak around her shoulders.

Christine heard the rustle of fabric. The Phantom thrust something into her arms, followed with instructions to put it on. She quickly donned on the garment, quickly realizing it was a thick velvet cape. She felt for his hand, finding it quickly.

The Phantom felt her take his hand of her own accord - and his heart hammered against his ribs. He quickly shouldered the heavy satchel over his shoulder and took her to the other side of the small chamber. If anyone was lucky enough to find this room - they would find nothing but a small wooden table.

Making sure his large hood was draped over his head enough to cover his face - Erik led Christine through the concealed door and then up an extremely narrow stone stair that spiraled up to the world above. Their surroundings remained in pitch darkness. The Phantom noted Christine's silence and he hoped that she wasn't frightened.

He was silent for the whole journey to the surface as well – not wanting to waste any more time than was necessary. There was time for talk after they got to a safe place to hide. Erik wasn't very sure on where to go - but he knew that he had to get away from the Paris Opera. There was too many people and armed police here.

The stairway ended abruptly at a wall, and Erik's nimble fingers slid along until the hit a switch. The panel slid aside and moonlight flooded onto them from a high window. Because of being in the pitch black for the past several minutes - Erik's eyes squinted and he ducked his head further under the hood until he got used to the light change. They had emerged behind a large pile of hay in the opera stables. Thankfully the fire from the crashing chandelier hadn't gotten this far yet.

He could hear shouts of people on the streets and moving through the area nearby as they escaped from the burning theatre. Turning to Christine, the Phantom reached out to tug the hood over her head. No one would pay any notice to two hooded figures trying to get away from the burning opera house. Gripping her hand - he led her to the back of the stables - and was relieved to hear soft whickering.

Approaching the black horse and calming it, Erik slung the satchel over the horses back. There wasn't any time to saddle or bridle the horse - but Erik knew how to ride a horse without such things. He didn't like the idea of restraining and tying down such a graceful creature. Lifting Christine in his strong arms, he helped her onto the horse. Once she was comfortable he mounted the horse behind her and reached around her waist to gently grasp the horse's mane.

He guided the animal outside of the stables and into the courtyard. He couldn't break out into a gallop with all the people and wagons crowding the area all around. No one paid any attention to the two riders on a black horse as they slowly made their way to the crowded street.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2-Insecure**

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Christine was trembling. She knew that she could never go back to the Opera House; she knew she could never go back to Raoul, yet this didn't bother her.

The passersby, thankfully, never took notice of the two. Escape was on the horizon and Christine knew then she had made the right choice to go back.

As the Phantom guided the horse down the street away from the opera, he dared not look back. He felt a twinge of apprehension about leaving the only place that was a home to him and being suddenly thrust up above ground to risk being discovered. But he had no other choice. Even if Christine hadn't have come back, he would still be in the same dilemma.

He could feel Christine trembling in front of him, and his arms tightened around her waist. He tilted his head forward and kept the right side of his head and face pressed to the side of her cowled head. He had to see where he was going - and he didn't want anyone to see his disfigurement.

As they turned a corner and headed down the next street - it was then that the Phantom discovered that he was shivering too - his damp clothing was giving him a chill. At least his cloak provided some warmth as well as the feminine warmth in front of him.

He tried not to think about the people milling about on the street around them. Truth be told, the crowds made him very nervous. His breath and heart rate had quickened with adrenaline, and his hands gripped the soft black hair of the horse's mane so tightly that his knuckles were white.

He couldn't see Christine's face, but he hoped she wouldn't be able to tell how scared he was - and so he did his best to keep the sense of power and aloofness at the forefront.

"Where are we going?" Christine asked, pulling her cloak around her.

At Christine's question, Erik was quiet as he thought of a possible response. Up until now he knew what he needed to do - which was get out of the Paris Opera before the mob found him. Now that Christine was in the picture - he had to do anything he could to keep her from harm.

He guided the horse down a quieter street, keeping his head tucked against Christine's. "Somewhere safe...where they can't find us…" he said softly, mind working on a solution. "Somewhere where you can rest..."

A cool wind blew and Erik shivered, looking up briefly at the night sky. He figured the best thing he could do was head for the outskirts of Paris and find a secluded inn to stay at. He was more concerned for Christine's well being than his own at the moment.

As a group of night revelers passed by them on the street from a nearby bar - quite noisily and drunk - Erik's grip tightened around Christine and he subconsciously shuddered, turning his head away from them. He longed to find a place for him to conceal himself. Maskless and wigless - he felt naked and exposed - even with a hooded cloak.

Christine looked back at Erik, who was deep in thought. She reached up and felt his deformity, her fingers brushing over the bumps and crevasses that made up part of the Phantom's face.

"How did it happen?" Christine asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Erik gasped slightly at the sudden touch on his skin with a flinch - not expecting Christine to reach up a hand to his face. Shivering - he reached up a hand to move her hood just enough to see her eyes - but didn't make any other movement to touch her himself. Touch was a luxury...a gift that had always been denied him. At times like this - he wasn't quite sure how to react. He stared at her silently for a moment before she spoke.

At her question, Erik's dark blue eyes averted and the eye contact was broken. He lowered his hand around Christine's waist once more to grasp the horse's mane. "I...was born this way," he said quietly but with an edge to it - as if by hardening his voice - he would be able to block the pain.

"Oh..." was Christine's reply. The sharp tone of Erik's voice let her know to leave the subject be. She couldn't even begin to understand the horrors of his life, but she hoped to help him heal the wounds in his soul.

Christine yawned and leaned back against the Phantom. Sleep came quickly.

After a while of silence between them, Erik felt Christine's body gradually relax against his. She must have been really exhausted to fall asleep on horseback. Erik noted his own exhaustion with a sigh -but sleep can come later. His mind was too busy to even consider sleep at the moment - plus being aboveground where there were people about caused him to be on edge. It started to rain then – starting as a soft mist to a steady downpour. It wasn't long before the both of them were thoroughly soaked and chilled. Erik desired to find a place for shelter and soon.

They had arrived at a quieter part of Paris now - closer to the edges of the city. Erik now kept an eye out for a place that they could stay for the night. If he had of been by himself - an old abandoned building would have been fine...but with Christine with him he dared not. He wouldn't have been able to have her sleeping on a dirty cold floor in a place where there could be rats and other vermin scurrying about. Christine, his beautiful angel - deserved no less than a warm soft bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3-The Old Inn**

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Erik spotted an old inn on a street corner - warm firelight glowing through the shuttered panes. His body tensing with instinctive weariness at the prospect with communicating with other people – he guided the horse to stop before the old wooden building. He gently shook Christine, his mouth close to her ear.

"Christine...I found an inn - it looks like they still have room," he whispered softly. He dismounted, holding Christine in his arms. "Soon you shall be warm and dry.."

Christine woke up to Erik whispering her name. She yawned sleepily and stretched, nearly falling off the horse.

He led the horse (amazingly without the assist of a lead) through an archway and nearly ran into an older stable hand who saw their disarray and immediately offered to take the horse into the stable and bring their belongings inside.

Keeping the hood over his head and face, Erik nodded at the man and carried Christine into the warm building - allowing her to sit in a chair by the fireplace. He talked to the innkeeper in polite but clipped sentences - eager to get the conversation over with before questions were asked. He handed the innkeeper some franc notes for payment.

"You and the lady must be chilled", said the old man as he pocketed the money. "Take your hooded robe off and warm up by the fire, monsieur..."

"No!" Erik barked sharply - causing the man to flinch and back up a step with eyes wide. Noticing his mistake and trying to hide his apprehension Erik held up both hands in what he hoped was a calming gesture. "No.." He repeated softer. "We are cold and have been traveling a while...we just need to sleep in our room...forgive my outburst.." He added - hoping to fix his social blunder.

"Of course monsieur..." The old innkeeper nodded with an odd glance at the hooded man. He smiled at Christine as his wife entered from another room carrying Erik's large satchel.

Christine could barely keep her head up because of the exhaustion that was wracking her body. She hoped that Erik would hurry up and get them a room, so she could forget the night's events.

"Hello my dears...call me Annette...I'll take you both to your room oui?" The kindly old woman gestured to a stairwell with a smile.

Erik nodded at Annette as the pleasant older woman offered to take him and Christine to a room. He turned towards the seat near the fireplace where he had placed Christine and saw that she was quite tired. A few more minutes by the warm fire and surely she would be asleep. He approached her and helped her stand up. "Come Christine...Annette will take us to a room..." He said softly to her as he took her hand and led her after the innkeeper's wife.

The kind woman led them up old creaking wooden stairs - pausing only long enough to take an oil lamp to light the way in the dark hall. In the silence of the late evening - the thrumming rain was very audible on the top floor...a sound Erik wasn't used to hearing so used to living underground. But it was oddly soothing nonetheless.

Following Annette to their room, Christine looked around. It wasn't the best place and the wall was crumbling in places. The floor was swept but still had a grimy look to it. Christine instinctively picked up her skirts

Annette led them to a door at the end of the hall - and unlocked it, pushing it open. Erik followed her in with Christine in hand, looking around at the small but comfortable looking room. The furnishings were simple; a dresser along the wall with a large mirror above it, a closet, a bed in the corner opposite the dresser and a bedside table. A small window was visible behind white lace curtains on the wall alongside the bed.

"Is the room to your liking monsieur?" Annette asked while she bustled around lighting some candles on the dresser and another oil lamp on the bedside table. Now with the warm glow of candlelight, the small room seemed cozy. Erik nodded at the woman - taking his satchel from her.

"Yes, it's fine Madame..." He said as Annette smiled at both him and Christine as she headed for the door. It was indeed curious that this stranger refused to remove his hood and cloak - but no matter...the pretty girl with him looked horribly exhausted. "There are sleeping gowns in the closet for the lady if she wishes. They are nice and warm and she looks chilled." She added seeing the hooded man nod in acknowledgement.

Erik followed Annette into the hall long enough to leave instructions for the utmost privacy - and the nice woman nodded with a mischievous look and an understanding grin that made her seem younger than her years. "Of course monsieur. Good night.." She shuffled off down the hall - and Erik quickly ducked back into the room and bolted the door. It dawned on him just what the lady's look meant when he saw the single bed - big enough for two people in the corner. He had considered it.....and indeed - the idea of sharing a bed for the first time with a warm body even though it would be the innocence of sleep - caused his heart to pound with the desire for human closeness. It was a simple thing really - just the closeness of another and basic physical contact. It was a god-given right always denied him. Erik nearly shook with the need for it...but he all ready caused Christine enough grief for one evening...

With a ragged sigh, Erik finally took off his cloak. He faced the mirror - seeing his haggard and disheveled appearance. He was still wearing his Don Juan costume from earlier. Glaring at himself - and shuddering at his hideous reflection - Erik quickly draped his damp cloak over the mirror so he wouldn't have to see it. He placed his satchel on the top of the dresser and then skulked off to the darker side of the room in the shadows.

"Make yourself comfortable my dear..." He said to Christine wearily as he faced the wall at the foot of the bed. "You have no need to be wary of me during the night. I won't disturb you. If you require privacy to change into a nightgown, I shall wait in the hall," he added softer still.

"No, it's fine. If you could just avert your eyes, please..."

Erik's eyes widened in surprise when Christine said he didn't need to exit the room for her to change. At her request, Erik quickly turned to face the darkened corner, hearing the rustling of her clothes as she removed them to put on the nightgown. He tried not to think of her slender supple body with little to no clothing. He was trying to keep control of himself and those mental images were not helping any!

Erik turned his face away from Christine as she removed her cloak and damp dress. She quickly put on her nightdress then removed the corset from underneath. Folding her clothes nicely, Christine set them nicely on the dresser.

"Okay, you can look now. I'm all done," she told her love.

At Christine's words, saying that she was finished, Erik turned around and stared at her. She looked so small and delicate wearing the simple nightgown. The candlelight glowed against her soft looking skin and her dark curly hair tumbled about her shoulders and down her back. The nightgown went down to her knees and clung to her feminine curves. Erik swallowed hard and turned his head, grateful for the deep shadows where he was standing. Running a hand through his damp disheveled hair he tried not to think about the heat flushing his cheeks and elsewhere.

"You may take the bed...I'll be fine on the floor." He said finally, taking a spare blanket from the closet. He shivered slightly - still damp and cold from being outside. He didn't have a change of clothes to sleep in like Christine did. He sat on the wooden floor, wrapping the blanket about himself. He was tired yes....but his mind was too busy to attempt sleep.

"Good night....mon ange..." He said softly - glancing at her beautiful face briefly. She was so lovely in that moment that he almost couldn't bear to bring his monstrous face to look up at her. He felt as if he was defiling her somehow just by looking at her. He leaned himself into the shadowed dark corner away from the candlelight and huddled to try and get warm.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4-Dreams**

Christine felt bad that Erik had to sleep on the hard, dirty floor, but she knew that he wanted to make her comfortable. Turning from Erik, she wrapped the quilt around her body and fell asleep quickly.

The Opera House was being consumed by flame in front of Christine's eyes. Somehow, she knew that both Erik and Raoul were in there and she had to help them.

Christine dashed up the steps and into the inferno. Smoke burned her lungs as she made her way through the flames. Suddenly the smoke thinned and she could see Erik and Raoul on the floor, Erik covered in blood and Raoul passed out cold.

"Oh my God!" Christine gasped. There was no way that she could carry both of them out. She had a decision to make. She continued to walk towards the two when the floor gave out underneath her. Falling into darkness, Christine screamed. No one could help her now.

Christine woke up with a start. She was out of breath and drenched in sweat. She looked at Erik who was sitting up looking at the fire.

Erik was staring the flames of the candles and the oil lamps, alternating glances to Christine, who had curled up in the blankets on the bed and was fast asleep. He sighed, trying to warm up in the blanket as he stared at the warm flames. His mind kept running the events of the evening over and over - and of events of the last few months. An hour passed by - as a sleepless exhausted Erik nearly drowned in the thought flooding his mind.

He didn't quite understand why Christine returned to him - and wondered if it was just a set up for another stab to the heart. He was deeply happy that he was with her - but since he was only accustomed to a life filled with unhappiness - he expected an axe to fall any time he felt happiness. He didn't know what the future would bring - and now that he had been forced from his underground home - he had to admit deep down he was very apprehensive to what he was going to do now. He couldn't just walk about like a normal man in broad daylight. Would Christine be happy with him - seeking refuge in the night?

Then there was Raoul. Erik knew that the Vicomte wouldn't let Christine go so easily. He imagined the man was looking for them with vengeance on his mind at that very moment. Well....Erik would be ready for him. He did have his sword with him...and mark his words - he wouldn't let himself fall in their next duel! The loss in the graveyard

His thoughts were interrupted by a whimper and a soft cry from the bed. Erik's head snapped up with alarm as he spotted Christine bolt upright in bed in a sudden fright.

"Christine?" He asked quickly, his rich melodious voice filled with concern. He quickly got to his feet, dropping the blanket as he approached the bed. He didn't want to scare her more in her frightened state - so he turned his head in such a way so that she wouldn't see the mangled part of his face and head in the revealing glow of the candlelight. As a second thought - he reached to the dresser where there was a pitcher of cool water and a basin, as well as a couple of ceramic cups. He poured a glass of water for her and offered it carefully.

"What is wrong?" He implored softly.

Christine turned to Erik, accepting the cup of water he had handed her. "I had a nightmare; I went back into the building for you and Raoul and you were both near death. I couldn't help both of you like I wanted to, but when I started walking, I fell through the floor. I just kept falling..." she said, tears forming.

Christine wrapped her arms around her Phantom, letting the tears fall. "I wanted to help you both...I couldn't let you die..."

Erik listened quietly as Christine described the nightmare - not knowing what to do other than being there for her to listen and just...be with her. His heart ached to see her in distress - and he wished that he could erase the memory of the nightmare from her...and wipe every tear from her lovely face. His hand rose to almost do that - but faltered just before he could reach her hair. He lowered his hand - but then Christine suddenly threw her arms around him, holding herself tightly to his chest.

Erik stiffened with a gasp at the sudden contact...and started to shake as he raised his arms to hold Christine close. He could hear her crying and he could feel her warm soft body shaking in his arms.

"Christine…" He whispered barely audible, bowing his head and feeling the softness of her hair caress his face. "We are safe now. I will never let harm come to you."

Christine looked up at Erik. "Can you stay here with me? Please? Besides, the floor is dirty and hard and cold..."

Erik froze and stared at Christine as she shifted away from him to leave him room with her on the bed. She....wanted to share the bed! He never imagined....!!

She let go of Erik and moved over, making room for him.

"Please?"

"I...you....what...really?" He got out - actually speechless in this new predicament. He sighed, and looked away from her - not really sure how to react.

"If that is what you wish..." He said finally in a soft voice, before bending to remove his boots and stockings - leaving him in just his white baggy sleeved shirt and his slim pants. Glancing at her and nearly quivering at the onset of this new experience, Erik slipped under the covers, finding the blankets still warm from her body. The spot he was laying in - was where she was sleeping minutes before, and his eyes closed briefly when he smelled the sweet smell of her hair in the pillow.

He didn't make any moves to touch her - but his close proximity to her was first and foremost on his mind.

Christine couldn't help but notice that Erik was tense. She leaned over and gave a quick peck on the cheek.

"It's okay; I won't bite, I swear!" she told him, giggling. She snuggled up to him and gave another kiss.

Erik gasped audibly and shuddered as she sidled next to him and kissed him on the cheek. On the deformed side of his face! He jerked as if touched by electricity at her second kiss and instinctively shied his marred cheek away from her. He felt suddenly ashamed that she was touching a part of him that he severely loathed.

He felt her arms around him...and slowly reached his arms around her shoulders - feeling the warmth of her fill him and ease the chills from sleeping on the floor.

"Forgive me my dear....I'm not used to....this." Erik said, not making eye contact and looking at the ceiling. It sure felt nice though....the delicious physical contact was more than he could ever dream of....

"Darling, it's okay. I love you regardless of what you look like. I think you're extremely handsome and that's what counts," she stroked his face. "Now try to get some sleep..."

Erik slowly turned his head to look at her, his dark eyes roiling with suppressed emotion. She had said that she loved him....called him by an endearment AND said that he was extremely handsome in nearly one sentence. He couldn't speak - for he wasn't sure if he could trust his voice at the moment. He felt her touch his face and stroke it....and trembling, starving for contact, he instinctively leaned into her touch like a content but shy cat.

Was this a dream...or was it real? How could he follow her suggestion and sleep when the object of his love and desire lay in his arms? He could feel every curve of her laying against his body - and the deliciousness of the moment was so perfect - he nearly wanted to die from happiness from it. He wished he could freeze this moment in time so that he could remain like this forever.

"Je t'aime mon ange..." He whispered tremulously - unable to express the fullness of the emotion that nearly glowed from his dark eyes. Daringly, he raised a trembling hand to her cheek and touched it reverently sweeping his fingers into her soft hair, caressing the sensuous curve of her neck.

Christine closed her eyes and smiled. The touch of Erik's fingertips on her neck felt delicious.

Erik began to sing Christine a lullaby. She could feel herself slip into sleep quickly.

Erik saw Christine close her eyes at his touch - and he found his mouth quirking into a very small smile. He wasn't used to smiling....and he found that while holding his angel in his arms and entwining his fingers in her soft curls - it felt good.

Humming softly an old lullaby he remembered from sometime long ago, Erik held her close and rested his chin on her head. He stroked her hair - finding the action soothing and sang the old romany lullaby softly in his angelic voice...and indeed it seemed that a voice from heaven was surrounding the two on the bed during the quiet of the night. Even the rain seemed to have stilled as if to listen.

The song finished, and Erik felt warm and languid under the blankets. Sleep would come easy now. He softly touched Christine's cheek with a gentle tenderness - adoration in his gaze.

"Sweet dreams..." He whispered softly as he slowly drifted to sleep.

The small bedroom was mostly quiet and peaceful as the Phantom and Christine slept on. The rain had settled to a mist and the neighborhood around them was mostly silent - the silence broken briefly by the bark of a dog...or the sound of a horse neighing in the stables below.

Erik shifted restlessly in his sleep with a low sigh. Sleep had fallen on him quickly shortly after he had sung to Christine - the action had quieted his mind enough to allow him to drift off. Now - his mind roiled once more, except this time it didn't leave his dreams in peace. Perhaps it was from the stress that had built up over the paste months...or the emotional turmoil and adrenaline that had transpired over the past 24 hours...but the result was a series of memories dredged up from the recesses of his subconscious that he most dearly wanted to forget.

In his mind - he was back in the filthy cage of the gypsies again as a child...without a hope of freedom, and putting up with one of the many beatings he had to endure. It was right before a show - and his master was whipping the fight out of him before hand.

In reality while he was sleeping - he had rolled facing away from the slumbering Christine, gripping the blankets tightly in his fists. He was curled tightly in on himself and his face tucked in his arms.

In the dream - images of leering faces clouded his vision. All laughing and jeering - women fainting and screaming, men and children throwing garbage into his cage. Suddenly to his horror, Erik realized that he wasn't a small child - but himself as a man...wearing nothing but ripped rags for clothing and ropes binding his wrists and chafing them.

He heard a familiar voice in his despair, and a light shone on one of the people outside of his cage. Christine! Oh, it was his angel!! Perhaps she was here to set him free....He reached out his bleeding hands to her in pleading supplication - filled with a deep shame for having her see him in this state but being unbelievably happy to see her at the same time.

Suddenly - Raoul appeared from behind her, and the light disappeared.

The two of them stared at him without reaction from the outside of the cage - as screaming and hollering people surged all around them. Erik tried to speak - but nothing would come out of his mouth. He couldn't utter a sound as he saw Raoul take Christine by the arm and start to lead her away. Raoul would point and hurl insults just like the rest of the crowd...and to Erik's complete horror - Christine joined him! No longer his angel of salvation - she had turned into someone no better than the people in the mob around his cage! Erik screamed silently then - a sound like an animal in anguish - a feral sound laced with pain and self hatred....

Not knowing that in reality - his voice was far from silent

Christine woke up for the second time that night by the movement of Erik next to her. He seemed to be sleeping, but was shouting incoherent things and tossing back and forth.

"Darling, darling, wake up!" Christine whispered softly. She shook his arm. "Wake up. Dear, you're dreaming. Wake up!"

The moment that Christine grasped his arm to give it a shake - it was if the blankets exploded around them as Erik burst into motion, suddenly pinning Christine beneath him with a painful cry of rage and fear. In the dream he was being grabbed and roughly handled by his gypsy master - and the built adrenaline manifested itself in a burst of self preservation.

Erik grasped Christine tightly and shook her roughly with incoherent snarls - fingers sliding to grasp around her neck but not squeezing tight enough to choke her air. His eyes were glazed and unseeing - face shining with perspiration in the light of the dimmed oil lamp on the bedside table. His contorted expression combined with the light playing across his distorted features really made him look like a demon of hell. He had the desperate look of a man betrayed - laced with paralyzing fear.

Christine screamed as her Phantom closed his hands around her throat.

"Wake up!" she screamed "Wake up before you kill me!" It didn't work. Christine resorted to fighting back as Erik continued to dream. She slapped his face and beat on his chest, anything she could do to get him to stop.


End file.
